


Our True Destiny

by SweetToothFox



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Evil Spencer Reid, F/M, Hurt Spencer Reid, Non-Canonical Character Death, Spencer Reid as Unsub, Unsub Spencer, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29063532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetToothFox/pseuds/SweetToothFox
Summary: After Maeve's death, Spencer is distraught. Destroyed.Instead of turning to his team for comfort, he turns against them in rage.Unsub Spencer Reid AUInspired by @hank.spencer.morgan on TikTok
Relationships: Maeve Donovan & Spencer Reid, Maeve Donovan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 27
Kudos: 52





	1. We Do Not Find The Meaning of Life by Ourselves

_Spencer walked up the stairs, slowly, dreading what was about to happen._

_Diane revealed herself, gun already cocked as she pointed it at him. “Put it on.”_

_Spencer obeyed. She led him into a room, and he struggled to figure out where he was._

_“Can I take the blindfold off?”_

_“No.” Diane snapped. She forced him down into a chair._

_He was scared; you could tell by his breathing. “Hello?”_

_“Hi.” That was all Maeve could say before Diane interrupted._

_“I was hoping you’d figure out my riddle.” Her hand was trailing down his neck, beneath his shirt. “I mean, I knew you would. The fun was just, how fast you’d do it. All this and brains, too.”_

_Spencer hated the feeling of her skin on his, but he fought not to move._

_“It took me a long time, to be honest. I was distracted by your thesis.”_

_She was shocked, stepping back from him. “You read my thesis?”_

_“I did.” His voice was even, cold, calculating. “You know, I think your writing can put you on the same plane as Jonas Salk. I’ve already sent it to the NIH.”_

_She was annoyed now. “Flattery is not gonna get you out of this. I know what’s waiting for me outside.”_

_Spencer shook his head. “I’ve arranged for your freedom.”_

_“The federal government doesn’t make deals with people like me,” she spat._

_“Not true,” Spencer said immediately. “Nazi scientists were recruited for the Manhattan Project. Mafia bosses are regularly put into Witness Protection. If what you have is valuable enough, the federal government will work with you, and what you have is very valuable.”_

_Her gun was at his chest now. “And what do I have, Doctor?”_

_Spencer’s breath quickened. “You have a brain that doesn’t play by normal societal rules. And I know that, all your life, the people you care about the most keep leaving. There’s a part of you that thinks it’s because of that brain. Well, I’m here because I’m not going to leave you. I’m here because…” he hesitated and swallowed his fear, “I just hope that I get the chance.”_

_“Chance at what?”_

_“To be with you,” his answer was immediate._

_Maeve’s breath was loud, but he had to ignore it._

_“Me for her. That was the deal, right?”_

_Diane’s voice was just a whisper. “You’re choosing me over her?”_

_Spencer shook his head. “Diane, how could it be anyone else?”_

_“Prove it.”_

_“All right, now?” Spencer took a deep breath._

_“Say it again.” She sounded sure. “This time, say it to her face.”_

_Diane pulled the blindfold off, and Spencer saw Maeve for the first time. Both their eyes were filled with tears._

_“I don’t love you.” He could see the pain in her eyes, but he forced himself to ignore it. “Sorry.”_

_“I understand.”_

_He couldn’t stand to meet her eyes._

_“I don’t need her anymore.” Diane walked towards Maeve._

_Maeve closed her eyes in preparation._

_“Kill her and she won’t have to live with the fact that you’re smarter,” Spencer said in a rush._

_Diane turned, her gun pointed at Maeve’s head._

_“Let her live with her irrelevancy.”_

_Diane smiled in agreement and knelt to cut Maeve’s bindings. Maeve rubbed her wrist, trying to restore blood flow. Diane stood, gun once again pointed at Maeve’s head._

_“I just want her to see one more thing.” She walked back over to Spencer, pointing her gun at him._

_He closed his eyes, but she didn’t shoot; instead, she moved down until their faces were even, and kissed him. He was shocked but responded, kissing her back. Maeve looked away._

_Diane’s eyes opened and she pulled away. “Liar.”_

_Maeve looked up at Diane pointed her gun at Spencer’s throat. “Liar!”_

_In one swift movement, Spencer pointed Diane’s gun up as she fired. He tried to wrestle it away from he, but she managed to point it at him and shoot, hitting his arm._

_Hotch rushed in, followed by the rest of the team, guns up._

_“Stay back!” Spencer rushed to stand in front of Diane. “Stay back! Stay back, stay back, stay back!”_

_Diane had her arm around Maeve, gun against her temple._

_“Diane, Diane, there’s still a way out of this,” he tried to raise his arms._

_“You never wanted me.” She was crying now. “Never! You lied!”_

_“I didn’t,” he walked forward, “Diane, I offered you a deal, and you can still take it. Me for her. Let me take her place.”_

_“You would do that?”_

_Spencer nodded, “Yes.”_

_“You would kill yourself for her?” Diane was even more angry now._

_“Yes.”_ Of course, how could I not?

_“Thomas Merton,” Maeve interjected._

_Their eyes met._

_“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane asked, looking between them._

_“He knows.” Maeve was somehow still holding back tears. “He knows.”_

_“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane jerked Maeve closer._

_Maeve’s voice was strong, determined. “He’s the one thing you can never take from us.”_

_Their eyes met again, hers resolute, his full of sadness._

_“No.” Diane moved the gun to her own temple, Maeve’s head right next to hers._

_Spencer screamed “Wait!” but it was too late. He watched them both fall, dead before they hit the floor. His lover and their stalker, side by side in death. He fell to his knees, sobbing. There was nothing he could do. His team, the people who were supposed to protect him, help him prevent this, could do nothing but look on in silence._

***

Spencer was at home for weeks. No one saw him, no one could get him on the phone, and his door was always locked.

Finally, he showed up to the BAU. He pushed past the entire team trying to greet him and walked straight to Hotch’s office. He reached into his bag and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

“Reid,” Hotch stood, “You can-”

“I made my decision,” Spencer placed the paper on his desk – a resignation letter. “Don’t try to convince me, you know it won’t work.”

There was nothing else to say. The entire team watched helplessly as Spencer exited, not meeting anyone’s eyes as he walked to the elevators and left.

***

Spencer’s apartment was a mess; covered with pictures of Maeve and Diane, notes, scrawled links and yarn connecting it all like Shelob’s web. Spencer paced back and forth endlessly, hands running through his hair, mussing it over and over as he muttered to himself. He’d barricaded the door after the team trying to come in multiple times and Morgan almost breaking the door from kicking it.

“Spencer,” Maeve’s voice echoed throughout the room.

Spencer could only see her out of the corner of his eye, like a mirage. “What?”

“You need to stop your obsession with this,” she tried to calm him down.

“She killed you,” he snapped.

“And herself.” She reminded him. “There’s no one else left to kill.”

He turned to face her, angry enough that he didn’t care whether she was there or not. “Shut up! You’re dead, you don’t get a say in this!”

She almost seemed to appear, “I’m sorry, Spencer.”

And then she was gone. He screamed and threw something where she was, but it did nothing. He knew it wouldn’t.


	2. What We Have to Be is What We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The killing spree begins.  
> Lots of violence.

“Sir, we’ve got a case,” Penelope said as she walked into Hotch’s office.

He looked up, confused. “I haven’t seen anything.”

“I keep my own trackers running, I don’t trust local police departments,” she answered, handing him a folder. “Look over it, I think it’s something worth checking out.”

“You know we can’t go anywhere without being invited,” he accepted the folder.

“It’s right here in Washington, Sir.”

_Shit._

“Thank you, Garcia, you’re dismissed,” he waved her off and opened the folder.

As Penelope exited the office, Morgan looked up. “Anything interesting, baby girl?”

She shrugged, “Possible case here in the city. Nothing for sure.”

“If you think it’s worth looking into, then it is,” he smiled at her.

She didn’t smile back. She hadn’t since Spencer left, no matter how much the rest of the team tried; it was as if she’d become a different person. She walked back to her office quietly.

“Has anyone tried to talk to Spencer?” Morgan asked as the door closed. “For her sake, if nothing else.”

JJ sighed. “I tried. Ever since you tried to kick the door in it’s been even harder, I’m pretty sure he blocked our numbers.”

“This isn’t my fault,” Morgan said immediately.

JJ snorted derisively, “You’re not an angel here, Derek. You tried to break the poor boy’s door down.”

“And you didn’t stop calling him for an entire day,” he shot back.

“Both of you, stop it, now,” Emily cut in. “Spencer made his own decision. We can’t blame each other; we just have to move on.”

No one wanted to do that. How could they?

***

“Okay, Garcia flagged a local case, so we’re going to check it out,” Hotch said as the team gathered in the briefing room. “Pen?”

She stood quietly, her lack of energy affecting the entire room. “Okay, so, I keep tabs on certain deaths, methodology similar to what we’ve seen in the past. Three different examples have popped up in the past week, all within a 20-mile radius of us.”

“Possible obsessive stalker?” Emily asked.

Garcia shrugged, “I’m not sure yet. Sp-” She looked up to ask a question to the man who wasn’t there. “Sorry. I- uh- I don’t know.”

The beginning of his name hung in the air, as much as they all tried to move past it.

“Dave, you and Prentiss go to the first scene; JJ and Morgan, you go to the second. I’ll take the third.” _Without Spencer._

***

“They’re going to figure it out, sooner or later,” Maeve was back.

“No,” Spencer laughed, “They won’t.”

“You can’t be sure of that, Spence. You’re putting yourself in danger. You’re putting _them_ in danger.”

“Maybe they deserve to be in danger!” He snapped. “Maybe they deserve some of what I experienced. What we experienced.”

“You can’t mean that.”

He growled with anger, hands running through his hair as he paced. “You can’t tell me what I mean, Maeve. You’re dead. You’re gone, and they couldn’t help me, and I wish you would just shut up and leave!”

“You can’t get rid of me,” she sounded almost sad. “You know why I’m here, whether you like it or not.”

***

“No evidence, anywhere,” Emily sighed, “How is that possible?”

“Same here, we couldn’t find anything. It was covered in bleach and vacuumed. Who does that?” JJ asked. “Cleanest serial killer I’ve ever seen.”

“We don’t even know this is serial, it could be a group of people,” Hotch countered.

“How do we have no idea what’s going on?” Morgan asked. “We’re profilers, we’ve worked with less than this.”

“But there’s no consistency with this, not even a methodology,” Rossi cut in. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“The method, the replication implies anger,” JJ started, “With that, we’d expect emotion in all aspects.”

“But then we have the extensive cleaning, which means there’s a consciousness, and awareness of what’s going on, a need to evade the authorities.” Morgan added.

“We’ve got nothing.” Garcia summarized as she walked in. “Absolutely nothing.”

***

“It’s cute that they think they can catch me,” Spencer laughed as he got back into the car. “They think they have a chance.”

“They’re going to figure out it’s you sooner or later,” Maeve countered.

“No, they won’t. And even if I do, there’s no evidence. I’d rather kill myself than let them get me for any of this. At least then, I’d be with you.” He began driving, making sudden turns, passing other drivers left and right, going far out of the city.

The body dump was done in less than an hour. Spencer was cleaned up and home less than half an hour after that.

“You can’t cover every case you’ve ever done with the team, that’s thousands of victims,” Maeve followed him into the bedroom as he changed clothes. “The city would go into a state of emergency before you’d get a tenth of the way through.”

“Then I’ll move somewhere else and continue the list.”

Maeve sighed, sitting on the bed. She left no imprint; she never did. “You’re losing yourself, Spencer.”

“I lost myself when I lost you.”

“You’re better than this!” She exclaimed. “You were okay before me, and you can be okay again, but not if you keep doing this. You’re already six people in, Spencer, but you know it’s not too late.”

“I’m a spree killer now. Why should I stop?”

“Because I’m asking you to.”

He couldn’t even look at her; he turned his back to her as he pulled on a clean shirt. “You’re also dead.”

***

“We’re up to ten victims, all within three weeks,” Hotch said as they gathered in the briefing room. “All echoing past BAU cases, all without any evidence. I’m getting pressure from higher-ups, now, we need at least a profile, preferably a suspect.”

 _There is a suspect._ Everyone knew it, but no one would admit it.

“Has anyone kept any tabs on him?” Rossi asked.

Garcia nodded, “He hasn’t even left his apartment, there’s no way it’s him. He got a single grocery delivery, that’s the only contact he’s had.”

 _Okay. It’s not him._ A collective breath was released. _At least we don’t have to consider that._

“This is our only case, our only priority. This supersedes sleep, children, everything. We need something or it’s our asses on the line.” Hotch knew he was being harsh, but he needed them to understand the pressure they were all facing. “No one is going home until we have a profile, no matter how basic. Get to work.”

Before anyone could object, he was walking back to his office.

***

“The city is under high alert because of you,” Maeve said as Spencer downed a handful of pills. “You need to be more careful.”

“I thought you didn’t want me doing this,” he shot at her.

“I also don’t want you to get hurt,” her voice was soft, contrasting his harsh tone. “Your safety matters to me, Spencer.”

“Me caring about your safety didn’t stop a bullet from destroying your brain, why should I give a damn about what matters to you?”

***

“Explain to me how it has been a month, a _month_ since this killer showed up, and you cannot give me as much as a sex, an age range, or anything?” Director Strauss was angry, angrier than anyone had ever seen her.

“This killer knows how we work, what we look for, knows the police system, all of it,” Hotch fought to keep his voice even. “We can’t work with what we don’t have.”

“SSA Hotchner, I am about a week away from firing your entire team for utter incompetence,” she growled at him. “I want a profile, and I want it yesterday.”

“I’ll do everything I can, Director Strauss.”

***

“Repeat what I just told you to say,” Spencer looked down the barrel of the gun at the trembling form, “And repeat it exactly.”

The man did, voice shaking.

“Good,” Spencer lowered the gun, but kept his finger next to the trigger. “Now, listen to me. I don’t want to hurt you. So, if you want your family to survive, if you want to survive, you will do exactly what I told you.”

The man nodded.

“The slightest deviation means a bullet in one of your children. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

The man shook his head.

“Now, GO!” Spencer bellowed.

The man scrambled off. The children and his wife were silent, shaking in fear.

“Spencer, at least let the children go,” Maeve said, leaning against the wall in the corner of the small room. “They haven’t done anything.”

“They’re insurance.” He snapped at the shadow in the corner of his eye.

“They’ve seen your face.”

“You think I can’t concoct memory-altering drugs?” He snorted, “Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know who you are, anymore. You’re not the man I fell in love with.”

***

“I did it,” the man whispered. “I killed them all, I can tell you how, I can tell you where the bodies you haven’t found are buried.”

“Write them down,” JJ slid him a piece of paper and a pen before exiting.

As she closed the door, Hotch raised an eyebrow.

“It’s too perfect,” she said, answering the question he hadn’t yet asked. “It’s too convenient.”

“Strauss is going to take it at face value,” he sighed.

They both looked up at the man in the interrogation room, frantically writing. And then, for no discernable reason, he looked up in horror.

“No,” they heard over the microphones, “Please!”

JJ saw it a second before Hotch; the small red light flashing at his collar. She pulled Hotch down as the bomb in his chest exploded, covering the small room in his remains, the glass barely containing the force of the blast.

“Well then,” Hotch panted, “That was unexpected.”

_And once again, we’re back to square one._


	3. Balance, Order, Rhythm, Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The killing spree becomes personal.

“Sir,” Garcia entered Hotch’s office, more docile than he’d ever seen her. “He’s gone dormant.”

“What?”

“It’s been a week and there are no new missing cases, no new bodies. He’s dormant. The director is requesting we move on, work on other cases.”

Hotch sighed. “Don’t stop keeping tabs on that killer.”

She nodded.

“And…” he didn’t know how to ask it.

She knew. “No change, Sir. He still hasn’t left, still only rare grocery deliveries, he hasn’t done anything strange.”

Hotch nodded. “Thank you, Penelope.”

***

“You’re letting them forget about you.” It wasn’t a question. “I know what you’re planning next.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re in my head,” Spencer muttered, pacing back and forth, scratching his head with a gun. “Do me a favor and shut up, Maeve.”

“Can’t tell me to shut up if you’re the one that’s creating me,” she seemed almost smug.

Spencer didn’t respond.

“You have to do it quickly, or they’re going to catch you,” she walked up behind him. “You have two weeks, maximum.”

“I know!” Spencer yelled, turning to face the disappearing figure behind him. “I’ve done the math. I factored in the fact that I’m missing. I know how much time I have.”

She was behind him again. “I’m just reminding you. I don’t want you to get hurt, Spencer.”

“And I didn’t want you to get hurt. We both know how that turned out.”

***

They were in a briefing when JJ’s phone rang. It was Will. She picked up. “Will? What’s wrong?”

His accent was audible even through the phone, though his words weren’t. JJ went white and covered her mouth.

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t hurt him.”

It was too late. The entire room heard the gunshot over the phone.

***

“One down, seven to go,” Spencer said as he drove away.

“I don’t understand why you’re targeting family,” Maeve said.

“Will’s a cop too.” Spencer said shortly.

Maeve sighed, “Oh, so he didn’t protect you either?”

“Exactly.”

“And what about the kids?” Maeve asked, “Henry’s at school, and he’s like a son to you.”

“His parents betrayed me,” Spencer said shortly, “I’ll spare Henry, and Jack is innocent too. But their parents aren’t.”

“We could’ve had children, you know. If things had been different.”

Spencer pulled the car over and turned to face the empty seats behind him. “Shut up! We didn’t! Things weren’t different, and now this is what’s happening.”

***

There was no evidence.

JJ’s husband was dead, and there was no evidence.

She was inconsolable, barely able to choke out any words.

Rossi met Hotch’s eyes across the house. _We know who this is._ Neither of them wanted to say it.

***

Strauss’s was public. She threw herself off the building. There were no notes. No public confessions. No calls. Just death.

Spencer was over 2,000 miles away when she died. As far as anyone knew, he was still in his apartment; Garcia double- and triple-checked. He barely glanced at the television coverage of the incident as he pulled his hood over his head and kept walking.

Maeve was different now; more a voice in his ear than a full-fledged person he talked to. It was as if the further away from home he was, the more distant she was from him.

“You should at least pay your respects,” she said quietly.

“She was a bitch,” he answered, matching her volume. “I feel no pity for her.”

***

“We have to discuss the possibility that it’s him,” Rossi sighed as he sat down on the couch in Hotch’s office.

“We both know Garcia has more tech expertise than the rest of us combined. Maybe than the rest of this building. If she says he’s home, he’s home.”

“He’s smarter than her,” Dave countered.

Hotch shook his head. “Not when it comes to technology. The kid couldn’t deal with a case file on a tablet, let alone getting around Garcia’s web.”

“He’s not a kid. He’s a possible suspect.”

“No. He’s not a suspect. He hasn’t left his apartment. He’s just an ex-employee.”

_He can’t be a suspect._

***

Emily and Garcia sat next to each other, going over the cases repeatedly, searching for anything. The case files were burned into their memories, but they kept looking anyways.

“We have to consider-” Emily began.

“No.” Penelope cut her off. “I keep so many tabs I’m basically the Russian government. It’s not him.”

“It isn’t?”

They both whirled around. There was Spencer, one gun on each hip, looking surprisingly casual.

“Spence!” Garcia jumped up, about to go in for a hug.

Immediately, there was a gun out, trained on her forehead.

“Sit back down.” His voice was ice-cold. “You too, Prentiss, don’t even think about trying anything.”

Shocked, they both sat down. His pupils were dilated, his eyes red from drugs and lack of sleep. He kept looking behind them, as if there was someone else there.

“They’re your friends, Spencer,” Maeve’s voice was back to normal, much clearer than it had been in Vegas. “You can stop.”

“No, I can’t.” The other gun was out now, trained on Emily’s forehead, but he wasn’t looking at either of them, “They know it’s me now.”

“Spencer, we understand you’re hurting. We can figure something out,” Emily tried, “Just put the guns down.”

“Shut up, Prentiss!” He screamed.

All three women flinched at that.

“I’m done with this charade. I’ve already spent too long here.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he fired.

Less than 10 minutes later, the three remaining members of the team showed up at Garcia’s apartment to find Penelope and Emily’s bodies. Once again, there was no evidence.

Spencer was long since gone.

The three of them sat outside the apartment, unspeaking. Finally, JJ stood.

“I’m going to his apartment.”

None of them had to ask what she meant.

All of them knew she might not return alive.

They couldn’t stop her.


	4. The Man Who Has Had to Face Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last of them. The team is gone.  
> The end.

Half an hour after she left, JJ brought Spencer in, handcuffed, to the BAU. His hair was long and shabby, his clothes unkempt, his smell unbearable.

“No struggle?” Hotch asked.

JJ sighed and shook her head. “He’s coming off a drug high, he even smiled when I showed up. He can barely walk.”

“We still need to question him,” Rossi said. “And if no one else dies while he’s here, we need to keep him here.”

***

Spencer was talking to Maeve. He stared at a corner of the small room, not even struggling against the cuffs, just smiling dumbly and talking to the woman who wasn’t there. Aaron, David, and Jennifer stood on the other side of the glass, listening to his words, staring at him sadly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he smiled at her. “I mean… I knew that before I ever met you. You’ve always been the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Seeing you just confirmed it.”

“We can’t even talk to him,” Rossi said. “He won’t respond.”

They stood there, silently debating what to do, when the door opened.

“Agent Hotchner? We just got reports of two more deaths.”

They were all confused.

“Who?” Hotch asked.

“Agent Ashley Seaver and former Agent Elle Greenaway.” He handed Hotch a folder. “The information is in there.”

“We have to let him go,” Rossi sighed.

They knew they were the only ones left. It was only a matter of time.

***

JJ went home and sighed as she dropped her bag. She and Henry were living in an apartment now; she couldn’t stand living at the home where she and will lived and loved together. She walked in to hear Henry laughing; a rare sound considering recent events.

“Henry?” She wiped away her tears and walked into the small living room. “What’s going on?”

And there was Spencer, sitting on the floor, playing with Henry like everything was normal.

“Mommy!” Henry ran over and hugged her. “Uncle Spence is here!”

“Mhm! I can see that!” JJ swallowed heavily. “Baby, can you let Mommy and Uncle Spence talk alone for a minute?”

“Okay!” Henry ran to the kitchen.

Immediately, JJ’s hand was on her gun. “What are you doing here, Spencer? How did you get here so quickly?”

Spencer laughed, hand casually resting on the pistol on his hip, “So many questions, Jennifer. Is that really how you want to spend your last few minutes?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You didn’t save her,” he snapped, “And you will all suffer for that. Every single one of you.”

“There was nothing we could have done,” JJ shook her head sadly.

“Liar!” Spencer stepped forward, slowly backing her up against the wall. “I bet you wanted her to die, didn’t you?”

“Why would I want that? I want you to be happy, Spence, we all do.” She gasped as her back hit the wall.

Spencer braced his forearm against her throat and pressed his gun to her abdomen. She was taking short, terrified breaths, somehow still finding the courage to meet his eyes.

“I know you’ve liked me for a long time, you’re bad at hiding it,” Spencer hissed at her, “I bet you enjoyed her death.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she shot back.

He fired, putting a bullet through her gut and into the wall. “Wrong answer.” He moved the gun to her head and put a bullet through her skull.

***

Henry couldn’t remember any of the past week by the time the cops got there. Once again, there was no evidence.

Rossi and Hotch exchanged a glance. _Who’s next?_

***

“Don’t try anything,” Rossi heard behind him.

There was an unmistakable _click_ of a gun cocking.

Dave slowly raised his hands in surrender. “Spencer?”

“Does it matter?” His voice was so numb.

“I just wanted to make sure,” Rossi’s voice was calm.

“Are you going to beg?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Those were the last words David Rossi ever heard.

***

“Are you done yet?” Maeve asked. “Only Hotch is left, and I know what you’re planning with him.”

“Just one more visit, then I’ll join you.”

Maeve sighed, “Fine.”

***

Jack had already been sent off to stay with Jessica; he and Hotch said their last goodbyes after JJ was killed. Now, Hotch sat in a chair, facing the door, gun in hand, waiting. Of course, Spencer didn’t enter through the door; Hotch didn’t know how he got in, but suddenly, the younger man was behind him.

“If you’re going to shoot me, just do it, Spencer.” _I’m not scared of you._

“Put the gun on the floor,” Reid ordered.

Hotch did.

“You’re going to listen to me, and my words are going to stay with you for the rest of your life,” Spencer walked around Hotch and took a seat opposite him.

_For the rest of my life?_

“You were in charge of the BAU. You were supposed to monitor us, keep us safe. I had an addiction and you barely noticed. I had headaches you never knew about. You kept the fact that Emily was alive secret for months, and I doubt you even _once_ thought about me, about how it might affect the rest of us.”

“I had to make a decision as the team lead.”

“Shut up.” Spencer’s voice left no room for argument. “You are going to suffer for the rest of your life, knowing that you could not protect us, any of us.”

“If you’re going to kill me, just kill me,” Hotch said, leaning forward. “There’s no use waiting.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Aaron,” Spencer answered, “I’m not going to kill Jack or Jessica either, I know that was your next question. I am going to let you suffer for the rest of your life knowing your team is dead, because of you. You knew it was me, and you couldn’t prove it, and your friends are dead, because of your utter and complete incompetence.”

“It is not my fault you killed them.”

“It’s your fault you didn’t stop it, and no matter how much you try to deny it, you will forever blame yourself.”

“You’re wrong,” Hotchner snapped, “I know it’s your fault.”

“You’ll still blame yourself.” Spencer stood and walked around Hotch, “And you’ll blame yourself for something else.”

“What?”

Spencer walked around to face Hotch again, kneeling in front of him. “This.”

Aaron realized what was going to happen too late. He watched, helpless, almost as if the world was in slow motion. Spencer took the gun from the holster and put it under his chin.

“No!” Hotch screamed.

Hotch tried to rush forward, to stop him and tackle him, but it was too late. He watched the bullet go through the back of Spencer’s head, his blood and brain spreading against the wall. Aaron fell against Spencer’s body, sobbing as he pulled himself off the younger boy, the corpse.

His team was gone.

His family was gone.

He was alone.

***

_Spencer watched as his former boss, a man who used to be his friend, cried over his dead body._

_“Was it worth it?” Maeve asked._

_He turned. He could see her now, clearly. She was more beautiful than he’d ever seen her; she wasn’t crying or tied up or scared. She was calm, perfect, heavenly._

_“To be with you? Of course.”_


End file.
